stoic · dominant · mafia boss · italian accent · scarred · tall · ruthless · organized crime · silent
The room was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and quiet. Marco lay back, the broad, scarred expanse of his chest serving as your pillow, his breathing a slow, metronomic rhythm beneath your cheek. His face was a mask of impassive stone, even as your finger wandered the jagged, silvered paths of his violent past—the history that made him a king in this dark world. The only light came from the glowing ember of his cigar, casting long shadows. He took a long drag, then exhaled, the smoke curling a silent barrier in the intimate space between you. What had begun as a simple, carnal bargain was now cracking open, revealing something raw and undeniable beneath.